


Trust

by mikemunhoe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 12:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17044160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikemunhoe/pseuds/mikemunhoe
Summary: A short first person story talking about my inquisitors possession





	Trust

I rested my hand on Ser Cullen’s shoulder, limping alongside him as we passed through the rest of the garden towards the main hall. It was a crisp winter morning and early enough for the majority of Skyhold’s inhabitants to be asleep, leaving the castle’s grounds rather empty. Flashes of memories flooded my thoughts no matter how hard I tried to push them away but I couldn’t remember what had caused this. My skin felt electric and that small hum in my stomach felt tight as it turned to a grumble, like the feeling I get when I haven’t eaten in a while.

“Why?” I muttered to the commander. I remember blacking out for a moment during our chess game and when I came to again I was in so much pain, as if I was being stabbed in the head. The commander had said we needed to go see Solas.

“You’re— You’ve been possessed” he replied through gritted teeth. But I already knew this, I had already remembered the time I spent with Compassion in the woods and the conversation we had before we became one. It whispered to me now, coaxing me through the memories, telling me it was wrong for what it did.  
I could see the mix of emotions in Ser Cullen’s eyes, could see the cogs in his brain grinding together as they tried to find an explanation. I was scared of what might come after this… could he stand to love me still? To trust me? His time in the circle at Ferelden had shaped his bitter opinions on spirits and mages who ‘fell victim’ of possession, I was sure of it.   
I stopped walking and stepped in front of Cullen, resting a palm on his chest piece to keep him from moving onward.

“What can Solas do of it?” I said solemnly, “Compassion is no threat to us. I just need to rest and I’ll be fine”

“I was in Kirkwall, Theran,” the commander began, “I saw first hand what a possessed mage becomes… that apostate murdered hundreds because he failed to understand his spirit of ‘justice’ had become a demon”

I puffed out a breath, looking to the ground as if I’d find some answer there. He was right, wasn’t he? What if Compassion becomes a demon? Twists me into everything I hate? But I trusted it… I didn’t think it’d do what Ser Cullen believed it might.

“Fine” I grumbled “we may have Solas study me and I’ll prove that you’re wrong, yes?”

Cullen shook his head at my stubbornness before muttering an ‘okay’.

We had traveled through the short corridor to the courtyard and then up the crooked stairs that led to the main hall. Down a short hallway on the right of the room lied Solas’ quarters. To no one’s surprise, the elf sat awake in his chair looking over a couple books that rested on his desk as he wrote a few things down in a notepad. He looked up to us with his usual serious face, the one that creased his forehead and wrinkled the corners of his eyes.

“How may I help you?” the elf questioned. Before Cullen could start I began to explain;

“Due to some... precarious events, I’ve discovered I share an inhabitants with a spirit of compassion” I paused for a moment, waiting to see if Solas had anything to say before I continued, but he simply gestured for me to go on.

“It… was convinced or provoked or something. It felt it needed to repress my childhood memories, to… protect me. It just now freed them and… I… remember everything”  
“Well, that’s rather exquisite. But dangerous all the same, is there something more specific you need of me?” Solas pushed his chair back and stood up, circling around his desk to stand in front of us as he intertwined his hands behind his back.

“Cullen’s scared of it” Cullen crossed his arms, a flush across his face as he muttered something under his breath.

“He wants you to prove to him that it’s fine… that I’ll be fine”

“Ah” the mage muttered, a soft bitter undertone in his words “I can do that”

For a half hour or so, I sat on the edge of Solas’ desk as he questioned me about Compassion and my childhood. He made very few comments on what I had to say, instead filling the silence with an occasional nod or noise of affirmation. Finally, Solas had turned to Cullen to talk to him. I felt like a child visiting the healer with their mother, having them talk behind my back like this. In boredom, I found myself focused on the candle that lie in a small iron tin on the desk. The white wax dripped slowly into its holder, quickly solidifying where it lie. The flame gracefully danced on its wick, casting shadow and light across the room wherever it pleased.

Ser Cullen’s sigh drew back my attention. They had finished talking and the commander approached me with a similar expression as before, though a little more content. I hoped he wasn’t scared of me. I knew the way he felt was wrong and I knew that Compassion would not twist as Ander’s spirit might have but I understood why he worried. I wish he could understand I’ve been with this spirit all my life, whether I knew it or not, and it had yet to become a demon. We walked back to the garden in silence, neither of us quite knowing what to say, though we could still feel each other’s conflicting flurry of emotions as we strolled along. No matter what, I wanted to be with Cullen even if it took an eternity to convince him that Compassion would not become a demon.

A few days had passed since the events with Compassion and we had been preparing to invade the Arbor Wilds to finally hunt down Corypheus. The commander would be leaving before me to guide his troops in, so I decided to travel to his tower before his parting. Though, by the time I had gotten armored up for travel and gotten to Ser Cullen’s quarters he had already left. I sighed to myself as I stared around the empty room. I wonder if he would have said something before he left if not for this… thing… inside me. I tried not to dwell on it for too long and instead distracted myself by examining the reports on his desk. A certain one, signed by Solas, caught my eye and I picked it up to look over it. It read;  
‘Commander Cullen,

It has come to my attention that you have many worries for our dear friend’s new found reality. I’ve gathered information, past and present, about this topic in order to put your mind at ease and to understand what Theran may be going through at the moment, as we cannot be putting our own selfish means above something that has and may continue to change the course of his lifetime. 

I’ve kept in contact with one of Hawke’s friends, Anders, out of curiosity of his current state. Anders has supplied to me that he allowed a spirit of justice to inhabit him alongside his own mind, though you may have already known this considering your time in Kirkwall. Anders found that his own personal rage began to twist this spirit of justice into a demon of vengeance, which soon became uncontrollable and untameable. The demon began to force itself forward and cause Anders to do monstrous things towards people he would had sided with or assisted if he was in a normal state of mind. Because his own anger is what constantly fueled him, Anders was never able to gain control over the demon.

Theran’s case is similar to Anders. As far as we know, Theran allowed a spirit of compassion to inhabit him when he was very very young. But what makes him so unique in this case is Theran’s personal spite cannot twist this spirit, instead it would only find itself twisted if Theran were to have persistent selfish behaviors which, as I’m sure you’ll agree, he decidedly does not. The spirit only does ill considered things when Theran is provoked, which is why he pulses with electricity in such graceful manners when filled with any form of adrenaline. But even then Theran is still in control of his thoughts, and, more importantly, his actions. He is only affected by the fear he feels rather than the spirit itself. The spirit of compassion’s only objective is to protect Theran from harm rather than force its own agenda as Ander’s demon seemed to do. The outburst you speak of in the garden must’ve only occured because Cole had actively provoked the spirit instead of Theran himself.

Along with this you’ve stated your concern Theran may have been lying to us this entire time and indeed knew about his past. There is no way to prove whether this is true or not, but I find it more plausible that the compassion spirit may have helped repress the memories in order to try and assist Theran getting past his troubled childhood, rather than Theran deliberately hiding it from us. Either way, you have no need to worry for your lover, as he is not the usual case of possession and should cause no harm as a demon might. However, if you do find him suddenly acting strangely, please do find me. As a spirit of compassion can easily be twisted into a demon of fear.

I hope this puts your worries to rest,  
Solas’

Had Cullen really continued to nag Solas for an explanation? I had offered him more than once to answer any questions he might have… perhaps he no longer trusted me? Maker, what a selfish thought. I had to process for a moment, for I’d probably not be very trustworthy of something I do not fully understand as well. Even with that, the feeling of Ser Cullen no longer trusting me nagged at my thoughts and made my stomach feel tight once again.

Nevermind it all, there was work to be done, a world to save, et cetera, et cetera. I could not afford to be so caught up in such nefarious things as I was sure this would work itself out in due time. I set the note down and then stretched my arms above my head followed by a roll of my shoulders. My armor clinked together as I went two steps at a time down the battlements and towards the castle’s gate. At the said gate sat four harts, three of which occupying Blackwall, Cassandra, and Solas. Blackwall’s Hart had matched him rather well. It was a rather old, large, fully black stag with gigantically thick antlers that often had leaves and branches dangling from them. Cassandra’s hart was rather simple, as she didn’t care to show off much. It was a light brown with vanilla undertones and simple antlers, covered in shredded velvet. Solas’ Hart was a pure white albino that had been roaming the Emerald Graves. Her antlers were rather small for a hart but she was one of the leaner and faster of the four. I bit back anything I might had said to Solas about the letter and simply mounted my hart, a chestnut brown stag with bigger than average antlers, and with a quick nod of my head and a twist of my wrist we headed off to the wilds.


End file.
